


Mushrooms

by thegrendel



Category: Original Work
Genre: Anal Sex, Ass fetish, Collectors, F/M, Fetish, M/M, Mushrooms, Photographs, Photography, asses, buttocks, turnabout
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-11
Updated: 2018-11-11
Packaged: 2019-08-22 02:48:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16589384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegrendel/pseuds/thegrendel
Summary: I have an ass fetish. I collect photos of women's asses. The finest specimens are those that resemble mushrooms, when the woman is photographed from behind and bent over. There are other collectors like me. Sometimes I meet them. But, the one thing I must guard against is ...... being collected myself.





	Mushrooms

That's right, I collect asses. Women's asses, of course. I'm as straight  
as they come, and I'll knock you right on _your_ ass if you suggest  
otherwise.

After two years, there are eight items in my collection. Each exhibit  
consists of a photo album rubber-banded together with a spiral notebook.  
The albums hold the pictures -- the shots of the women bent over, their  
bare asses revealed in all their glory. The notebooks contain the case  
notes: the physical descriptions of the exterior ass architecture and  
the intimate details of interior of same and, of course, a detailed  
recapitulation and analysis of the lovemaking.

I've been thinking about computerizing -- using a digital camera and  
recording pix and notes on CDRs. Maintaining a home darkroom and writing  
everything down by hand is getting to be too much of a pain in the butt.

Much more valuable than the pictures and notes is the knowledge base  
I'm building up in pursuit of my little hobby-obsession.
    
    
    Women have three basic ass types: pear, apple, and box. Pear shaped is
    the most esthetically pleasing, of course, but you can't be too choosy if
    you're looking for willing women. Willing to be added to your collection,
    I mean.
    

Mushrooms. Ass collectors treasure mushrooms. Not the kind that you find  
on pizza, though.

The woman lowers her skirt or pants, along with undergarments, just enough  
to expose the entire buttocks. She bends forward from the waist to nearly  
a right angle. The waistband tightens and constricts the flesh at the back  
of the upper thighs, accenting the protrusion of the butt. If you imagine  
the legs as the stem, then the ass cheeks, viewed straight on, resemble  
nothing so much as the button of a huge, plump champignon mushroom.

At the yearly get-togethers, our little community trades mushroom photos.  
Oh, we carefully preserve the anonymity of the women involved. The faces  
don't show, and it's considered bad form to name names. Mushrooms don't  
have faces and names. Just those enticing round buttons.
    
    
      The interior attributes of a woman's ass determine how much pleasure
      it can yield.
    
      The shape and appearance of the outer sphincter give a preview of what
      the overall experience will be like. A round or symmetrically oval
      rosebud ringed in pleasingly red-tinged brown indicates a healthy
      colon. In any case, examining the gateway to the rectum certainly
      contributes to the viewing pleasure prior to actual penetration.
    
      The muscle tone of the two spincter rings is critical. Conscious
      sphincter control can facilitate entry of the penis and enhance
      the pleasure of both partners by squeezing and clamping down at
      critical moments.
    
      The degree of rectal tightness influences the intensity of sensation.
      Some prefer a snug fit, while others appreciate the freedom of
      movement that a stretched and loosened rectum gives.
    
      There can be some variation in the texture of the intestinal wall.
      Ribbed or smooth -- each has its characteristic pleasures.
    
      The temperature of the rectal chamber varies from person to person.
      Some women have a surprisingly high level of body heat inside,
      and this makes the sex hotter, both figuratively and literally.
      Others are cold inside, a pretty reliable indicator that they are
      cold-blooded, both physically and emotionally.
    
      The depth of the rectum is an important consideration. A short rectum
      may be necessitate changing the angle of entry to avoid discomfort to
      both parties.
    

In Real Life, I'm actually quite shy. Oh, I can hold up my end of a  
conversation with a woman once I've gotten to know her, but the skill  
of picking up a stranger is totally beyond me. I mostly rely on personal  
ads to meet women. This dispenses with much of the get-acquainted dance  
and also has the advantage of winnowing out women not interested in that  
activity so dear to my heart.

Fortunately, I'm a wordsmith of sorts. My ads avoid the sleazy and  
commonplace, such as "Greek language lessons." Instead, I appeal to  
the reader's sense of adventure and poetic inclinations.
    
    
      Wanted: A special woman for a special kind of love.
      Come, let's sail the Windward Passage together.
    

There seem to be quite a number of woman who leave their Windward Passage  
open to navigation. I've met a few in my time.
    
    
    Lubrication and sphincter relaxation are the keys to successful anal
    pleasure. A recommended lube is "XE-41 Industrial Strength Recreational
    Lubricant," available at finer sex shops in your neighborhood. Relaxation
    is mostly a state of mind, but there exist helpful little techniques,
    such as having the passive partner gently press out at the moment of
    penetration. Prior insertion of a well-lubricated finger or two may also
    be indicated.
    
    Some women have a trigger point just below the lowest vertebra, the
    tailbone. A gentle massage on this may cause the anal sphincter to
    dilate spontaneously.
    

My inflexible rule is to break off with a woman immediately after getting  
what I want. What I want are the photos, especially the prized "mushroom"  
shots, and an absolute maximum of five acts of backdoor love. Then,  
on to the next. This avoids emotional attachment and the sorts of messy  
entanglements that lead to possessiveness, jealousy, or even, horror of  
horrors, a long-term relationship.

So, what do the women get out of all this? Why their own physical  
satisfaction, of course. I pride myself at my skill in bringing my  
partners to peak ecstasy in intimate moments. And, women are delighted  
to discover how much more volcanic an anal orgasm is than the more  
prosaic vaginal or clitoral variants.

Do I ever engage in vaginal intercourse with a partner? Seldom, and  
only when that's the unavoidable price I must pay to get into their  
ass afterwards. Fortunately, few women of my previous acquaintance have  
demanded that.
    
    
    The optimum position for breaking in an "anal virgin" is side-by-side,
    the man facing the woman's back in spoon fashion. The woman pulls her
    knees up somewhat toward her chest, and the man curls forward, following
    the curve of her back and buttocks. This permits holding her breasts
    and massaging the clitoris as appropriate.
    
    For experienced lovers, the more conventional knee-chest, bent-over
    standing, and flat-on-stomach positions also work well. Each has its
    own particular sensations and delights.
    
    A modification of the traditional "missionary position," provides unusual
    delights for the female partner. The woman lies on her back, but raises
    her legs straight up. The man braces against the backs of her thighs,
    possibly holding on to her ankles for balance. The woman then reaches
    forward to guide his member into her posterior opening. This position
    stimulates the wall partitioning the vagina from the rectum. The
    rectal side of this wall is richly endowed with nerve endings, and
    pressure and friction against it can give the woman intense orgasms.
    

It's well past midnight. I'm sitting here in my hotel room in Kalamazoo  
writing this. The first day's session of the annual Can Collectors  
Convention is over. Yes indeed, "Can Collectors." I wonder who came up  
with that little sobriquet. We collect cans, all right. The cans women  
sit on.

I'm expecting a knock on the door any minute now. It'll be the grandmaster  
of the association. They call him the "Jackass," since he seems to have a  
special talent for jacking his way into women's asses. Over three hundred  
of them, all told. We'll be trading stories, seduction and lovemaking  
techniques, and, of course, mushroom shots.

He has a strange reputation, though. The rumor is that he collects  
_men's_ asses as well as women's. He's been overheard saying that  
an ass is an ass, and that it doesn't much matter to whom or what it's  
attached. He did give me some speculative looks during the day. I wonder  
if he's after _my_ ass.
    
    
    Some men enjoy being penetrated just as much as women do. Liquid friction,
    stretching, and the feeling of fullness inside the rectum are just as
    exciting for a man as for a woman. The male has the added advantage of the
    "prostrate button," located near the anterior of the rectal wall, just
    behind the scrotal sac. The sense of violating a fundamental societal
    taboo intensifies the pleasure. It is only a matter of overcoming a few
    outmoded prejudices and psychological blocks.
    

I see the first glimmers of dawn through the bedroom window. Maybe I  
should try to catch a couple of hour's sleep before today's session.

I've been collected. Me. I'm now part of someone else's ass collection.  
The Jackass managed to jack his way into my ass.
    
    
    The French began cultivating the champignon mushroom, "Agaricus bisporus,"
    in the Seventeenth Century. A favorite of gourmet chefs, the champignon,
    with its cream-white or beige coloring and delicate taste, goes well in
    salads, soups, and, of course, on pizza as a topping.
    

This is how it happened. He was showing me his mushroom album. I couldn't  
believe it. Hundreds of shots. Plump, skinny, and in between. All sizes  
and shapes. More varieties of mushrooms than you could find at the deli.  
Delicious, mouth-watering female-behind mushrooms.

I must have betrayed my excitement. He placed a steadying hand on my  
forearm and whispered that some day I could have as many in my own  
collection. With a little assistance from an expert, of course. Someone  
who could teach me the secrets and the mysteries.

"I'd like that," I said. The thought of possessing all those mushrooms  
was making me light-headed.

"I can be of assistance," he said. There was a wicked gleam in his eye.

So I let him talk me into it. He was willing to demonstrate certain  
techniques, all right, but . . .

. . . he insisted on demonstrating them _on me_. This was the only  
effective method of teaching, he said. I also got the message that it  
was the tuition I'd have to pay for the lessons.

I absolutely refused to do the mushroom shots. It was degrading and  
humiliating. I simply couldn't do it. But how would I deal with the  
strange urges, the mad lusts, boiling up within me? I'd often wondered  
what women felt. What it was like on the receiving end. One of my most  
persistent fantasies was having it being done to me. And now . . . I  
wanted it. I wanted it up my own ass. I had to have it. If that's what  
it took, I'd even submit to the degradation of posing for the mushroom  
shots. Me, bent over with my ass sticking up into the air. Me, a mushroom.

He had pulled an old SLR camera out of a drawer. It took him some time to  
load the film. Meanwhile, I stood there waiting, bent over, with pants  
and underwear pulled just below my bare buttocks. My ass was hanging  
out. There was a cold draft in the room and I was breaking out in  
goosebumps. Then I saw flashes and heard the camera's film-advance  
whining. Mushroom shots. I was the mushroom.

I knew what had to come next. It did.

Afterwards, still damp from the shower and wrapped in a beach towel, I  
sat across from him, snugly encased in a comfortable padded armchair.  
I munched on a slice of leftover mushroom pizza. He was scribbling  
furiously in a leather-covered notepad.

"So, how does _my_ ass stack up against the others in your  
collection?"

In answer, he passed over his handwritten _Encounter Summary_.
    
    
      High marks for enthusiasm. Technique a bit unpolished, but
      will improve with experience. Overall rating: B+. Promising,
      though not quite gourmet quality.
    


End file.
